


Radial

by Arbryna



Category: The OC
Genre: Age Difference, Early Work, F/F, Infidelity, POV Alternating, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot, Smut, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-08
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-27 02:06:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbryna/pseuds/Arbryna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>ra·di·al</b> - <i>adj.</i> Radiating from or converging to a common center.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Real

You don't know why you came back here. Marissa's not here, she's somewhere avoiding you, and you really were so fucking deluded to think she could ever want something _real_ with you. Nothing about this was real, it was all her mind games and emotional manipulation and damnit, you should have _known_ , from the second those words fell from her lips. Voice husky, thick with sex, twisting you into knots even as she told you that she didn't know how, was too scared to try and couldn't you just be patient with her for a little longer? It's obvious, was obvious from the beginning, where the power lies in this relationship. If you could call it that.

So you're here, and you're not sure why, because just a few hours ago this is where you were forced to admit it, to face the truth that you're just the latest chapter in her ongoing "drive Mom crazy" saga. The funny thing about it, you think, was that it didn't. Julie was so _nice_ to you, so understanding and sympathetic, and you think that maybe it was the first time you've even felt something that was actually real in months.

So that's why you're here. Because maybe Julie isn't the monster everyone makes her out to be, and just maybe you can relate to her, she'll understand. Maybe you can have some sort of friendship, bond over your mutual exasperation over her daughter. At least that's what you're going to tell yourself.

You didn't tell her, but you think she might have figured out that you'd seen the movie before. It slipped out so carelessly, "A little porn on a Saturday night," and from what you could see, it could have been nothing more than a cheesy soap opera. Maybe you'll tell her about that time Jody decided it would be fun to watch bad 80's porn, and how as cheesy as it was, Julie was so goddamn hot that the two of you didn't make it through the movie and it was the best fucking sex that night that you think you've ever had. Or maybe you'll leave out that last part.

She answers the door in this slinky robe, and it's all you can do to choke out some lame excuse about not being able to sleep and you know Marissa's still not here but you really couldn't think of anyone else you could talk to. It's true, at least; you don't exactly know many people here, you can't talk to Marissa for obvious reasons, and Seth is back in his happy place with Summer and you really don't want to hear all about their perfect love.

She seems surprised, but she ushers you into the living room, offers you a drink. It's all so polite and pretentious but under that veneer of superficiality is the distinct impression that she's just going through the motions, that there's a lot more to Julie Cooper than even you could have guessed. And then she's sitting down next to you, and that robe really doesn't conceal much. A bit of black lace peeks out from behind it, and _nobadthesearebadthoughtsbad_! She's your girlfriend's mother, you can't even begin to count the ways that it is so, so wrong.

But as she hands you your drink, her fingers brush over yours and your eyes lock and you forget all of the reasons it's wrong because she's looking at you like she likes a lot more than your pants. Her hand hasn't moved from your glass, and she deliberates for a moment before removing it from your hand and placing it on the coffee table, and then her nails are dragging slowly across your cheek, your neck and you're shaking like a leaf, but you're not scared. And then she's kissing you, full lips and wet tongue claiming your mouth, and if she hasn't done this before then she's got to be the most intuitive woman you've ever met, because it's all just _so right_. The feel of skin through silk under your hands, warm and soft, those nails scraping across your scalp as her fingers tangle in your hair.

And you've gotten so used to taking the lead now that it's a total surprise to you when you find yourself on your back, writhing under her as she kisses her way down your neck, traces the neckline of your wifebeater with her tongue. And her hands are slipping under from the other direction, pushing the material up as she moves to cup your breasts, her thigh sliding between yours and she somehow just _knows_ everything that makes you crazy, and you barely even notice when your shirt goes flying across the room, quickly followed by your bra.

Her nails scrape along the waistband of your pants, and you have a fleeting thought that if she likes them, she can have them, so long as she just _takesthemoffnowpleasegod_. Her tongue and teeth are devouring your breasts, swirling and nibbling and her hands are undoing your pants, sliding them down over your hips and then she's doing things with her fingers and her mouth that make it impossible to think anymore so you just thrust against her and then you come and ohgodit'sbeen _solong_.

And then she's leaning over you, nibbling on your lower lip, and you can taste yourself on her tongue. Her robe is thisclose to open, and the belt is brushing against your skin, so you grab it and pull it open, sliding your hands across the silk negligee underneath. Her body is full and supple, and you can't wait to explore every inch of it, so you maneuver the two of you so that you're on top, and you both know that the wicked grin on your face can only mean one thing.

It's your turn.


	2. Right

She's just a kid.

At least, that's what you're trying to tell yourself, but it's not very effective when she's hovering over you, her tongue teasing your lips, your neck, your collarbone as her hands slide across the silk covered skin of your abdomen in a way that is decidedly not childish.

At the very least, you should feel guilty because she's your daughter's girlfriend, as doomed as that relationship is. This is so wrong on so many levels, but then her hands slide up your bare thighs, pushing the flimsy silk out of the way as her teeth close around your nipple and it's _soright_. Her thigh settles between yours as she slips the negligee over your head, the fabric slipping deliciously over your bare skin.

You can't remember if you've ever felt this aroused, but you can remember when you came close. And as Alex nibbles on your hip bone, traces the line of skin between leg and pelvis, you begin to think it had nothing to do with the Jäger.

Then her fingers rake through dark curls, and you can't think anymore, only feel and jerk and thrust, and thank god Caleb isn't home because his hearing hasn't quite gone yet and _fuck_ you forgot you could make these sounds. Soft hair brushes over your stomach as she moves her mouth back to your breasts, and her fingers slip inside you, and you really thought you'd have more stamina than this but ohgodyou'regonnacomenow and your fingernails are scraping across her scalp as you cry out.

You're still shaking as her body settles on top of yours, and you can't see her because your eyes are still shut tightly as your mind races. This isn't new for you, sleeping with your daughter's lover, but at the same time you've never felt anything like it. Luke was...you're not sure what Luke was, other than inexperienced and a pathetic attempt to reclaim the girl you were before you married Jimmy. Even then, though, you felt a pang of guilt. You knew you were using him, and he was too young, and it would hurt Marissa so bad if she found out- and of course she did.

Now, all you can think is how you could have gone so long without this, breasts and legs and lips all tangled with yours, blonde on black hair splayed against the couch cushions. It all just feels so _right_ , but the silence lasts a little too long, and you realize how awkward this is, in the figurative light of day now that the initial burst of sexual energy has worn off.

Cold air assaults your skin as she pulls away, and you act on instinct and pull her back down. Her green eyes hold a hint of fear, and questions you know you're not ready to answer, and there's only one thing you know for sure right now, one thing that you want at this very moment.

"Stay."

 

_end._


End file.
